Doubt it
by ryrous
Summary: Because what's the point of being nice about it. Missing moment from Catching Fire. Oneshot.
**Doubt It**

 **by ryrous**

When Gale surfaced it was dark. He registered dim light though his vision was blurry. For a few seconds, he could not remember where he was or how he got there, but then he stirred and remembered.

He was lying on a kitchen table feeling like one large bruise. Mrs. Everdeen's medicine was probably wearing off and he feared the soreness of his back would only sharpen. He'd only felt like this one other time: when he was ten and he'd tumbled into a ravine at the edge of town and broken his collarbone and left arm. The pain had been so bad that he'd become nauseous and thrown up all over himself, and then struggled and stumbled home looking pathetic.

The next thing that registered was the sound of running water to his right. Someone was at the sink: probably Katniss. Slowly, to avoid jostling the skin on his back, he turned his head to the right so he could see her.

"Hey again," he said, because he'd had the words prepared, and they'd slipped out while he saw that the person at the sink was not Katniss, after all.

"You're awake," said Peeta Mellark, then turned back to the sink.

For a moment Gale didn't know what to say. Had he known Peeta was there, he would have pretended to still be asleep.

"Where's Katniss?" he asked.

"Upstairs asleep," Peeta said as he dried a plate and placed it on the counter on a stack of other clean plates. "She didn't want to go, but she'd been sitting here for twenty-four hours almost. I took over so she could get some sleep."

A headache was blooming behind Gale's left temple. He didn't expect Katniss to sit there all day, but for some reason it made him angry that she'd left him with Peeta. Gale knew her well; before he would have though there was nobody she'd trust enough to leave him with them in his state.

"Hm," he said, glaring at Peeta's back. The baker's son finished washing and drying dishes and turned off the water.

"I think there's some morphling left, if you need it." Peeta said.

"No," said Gale, though his back was throbbing. "It'll just knock me out again."

"Okay. Let me know if that changes."

Peeta dried his hands on a towel and sat, picking up a book from under his chair. Gale kept glaring at him. No matter what he said, Gale did want more morphling. His back was getting worse and he was starting to grit his teeth.

"Here," said Peeta, and Gale saw he'd put down his book and was holding the box of morphling syringes. "You look like you need it. I'll only give you a half dose, if you want."

"Fine," said Gale, and he sighed as Peeta injected him with the painkiller.

"Better?" asked Peeta a few minutes later, and Gale nodded. The half dose wasn't making him tired, but it was getting rid of the worst of the pain.

"You know," he said after a while. "You really piss me off."

Peeta put down his book again.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," said Gale. "You're supposed to be a jerk."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Peeta, smirking. "I'll try to work on it."

"I'm serious," said Gale. "You town kids have shat on me my whole life, but here we are. Don't you think it's weird that _you_ are the one looking after me right now?"

"Not particularly," said Peeta, shrugging. "I don't know why being a townie would make me shit on you. And I'm not really doing much."

Gale rolled his eyes.

"You don't have any idea why I might be suspicious of a townie?" he asked drily, with raised eyebrows.

"What does it matter where I'm from, anyway?"

"It matters because we have _nothing_. Katniss had _nothing_. But you were fine. You talk to us like we're stupid, or lazy, or just plain not good enough for you."

"I don't do those things," said Peeta. "At least I've never meant to."

"But most of you do."

"Most of _us?_ Who is _us_? Last time I checked everyone is responsible for their own behavior."

Gale was silent for a while. There was no point in trying to discuss this kind of thing with Peeta. This was exactly the trouble with townies. The nasty ones never got punished and the nice ones were at best naïve and at worst patronizing. The trouble was, Gale could never tell which was which. He couldn't see inside people's heads and know why they reacted to him the way they did.

Suddenly Gale felt a cruel, horrible urge to tell Peeta that Katniss had kissed him last night, that they were going to find a way to overthrow the Capitol, and there wasn't going to be a wedding. The townie could play selfless all he wanted.

But then Gale remembered Katniss by the lake, and knew she would be angry with him if he said that. If he abused the baker's son, Katniss would be angry; he'd become precious to her since those goddamn Games. It was just infuriating that Peeta seemed to have reached that point first.

"Seriously," said Gale. "Why are you here?"

"Wouldn't you be, if I was the one whipped and Katniss was going out of her mind about it?" asked Peeta.

Gale thought for a moment. Maybe it was the slight fogginess from the morphling or just the surreal quality of the last few days, but the words were coming easily, despite his vague awareness that Peeta was a sort of rival.

"No," he said. "I don't think I would. I would probably try to convince myself that you weren't really all that important to her. I wouldn't even think to check." He saw with puzzlingly mixed feelings that his words were a blow to Peeta. "Because this is all about her really, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And I don't doubt that she loves you."

Gale looked at Peeta thoughtfully.

"We're pretty different," he said.

"I guess so."

Peeta picked his book back up and Gale rested his eyes. They were done talking, or at least Gale thought they were.

"We've got something pretty important in common, though."

Gale pretended to be asleep. He'd said plenty to that silly merchant kid already.


End file.
